


The Roots or The Epic Story of Two Gentlemen With an Old Suitcase

by Srututu_Banana



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Magic, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Pre-Relationship, Spiritual, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-07-18 14:19:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16120238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Srututu_Banana/pseuds/Srututu_Banana
Summary: A duo of a medium and an ex-magic student on a journey to the past, not quite literally.It is not an entirely serious story.





	1. The Priestess' Story

**Author's Note:**

> There are some characters' cameos in the whole work but I didn't feel like adding them to the tag list as they may appear only for a short scene. Sometimes they are not even mentioned by their names.  
> Anyway, enjoy!

Most of the people who had arrived for the evening séance on the ferry cruising to the islands of Venc, were seeing a medium for the first time. Therefore the participants would probably spend their life fully convinced that all of spiritualists have eyes like drills and faces like grumpy eggplant. However, in fact it was an occurrence as common as in any other group of specialists.  
The medium was introduced as Berwald for two reasons: the first was the reputation because somebody like that should not be named for example ‘Bob’, the second was secret, dramatic and not yet to be revealed. There was a story behind it but as with every story: it had to be told when the time was right.  
People were sitting around a table. They represented various stages of curiosity, maybe some were a little bit anxious, some bored and some probably tried not to think too much about the way the ship was rocking slightly on the sea waves. The whole séance was just another way to kill the boredom and a desperate feeling of stomach flip-flopping.  
The room was warm, the air smelled of cigarettes and heavy perfume. It was almost completely dark except for the lazy candle flames which, quite ironically, made the shadows even thicker and the darkness in the corners almost greasy. The whole atmosphere was a little bit spoiled by the constant flickering of the light as one of the participants was playing with a candle by shifting his finger through the fire fast enough not to get burned. He had a very self-contended smile on his face and the sand-haired boy who had the man brought with him, was observing these actions with pure a fascination.  
"What you will witness may shake you to the bone,’’ the medium’s assistant spoke. Up to this point he was nervously plucking the cuff of his white shirt but now he was gesticulating rather vigorously which prevented him from his previous activity. ‘’You may feel scared, you may be confused, you may as well deny that all of it is true. And you are free to do this but I will wholeheartedly assure you that the voices you will hear soon speaking through Berwald’s mouth belong to the dead.’’  
At this point, suddenly, one of the rose-pattern-painted saucers on which the candle was placed, moved on its own right across the table.  
Said Berwald himself looked no different than a second before the whole event, maybe his narrow lips twitched a little. The man who had just been playing with the candle flame finally stopped, the kid watching him immediately straightened his back as if there was some kind of invisible signal between these two.  
‘’So, well,’’ the assistant spoke again, giving his partner a quick look. His face was almost as pale as the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing. ‘’Is there somebody with us already, Berwald?”  
“Yes.’’  
The audience visibly tensed, some eyebrows were risen, some hands froze just half-way for the nose-scratching.  
"He says he’s here for his grandson.’’  
The assistant looked around the table at the people gathered there. His face was solemn but there might have been a hint of amusement in his eyes. Or maybe it was just the candle light.  
“Is that grandpa Publius?’’ asked some dark-haired, very excited lad, he was well-tanned and must had been a traveler from one off the southern republics. His accent was definitely a clue. “I’ve never met him but I think he watches me sometimes from above! He was a big family-man!”  
"Calm down, you boy, you’ll make us all deaf,’’ protested a corpulent lady in a pink dress.  
"It is him,’’ claimed Berwald with the driest voice possible.  
"What does he want? I bet being dead must be pretty boring so maybe I could tell him about something nice like…’’ The young man was almost flying in the air out of excitement. The only thing preventing him from finishing the sentence was the absolutely terrible expression on the medium’s face. He looked as if he was suffocating, his eyes goggled, his mouth twisted.  
"Don’t worry it is normal he just…’’ The assistant tried to be reassuring but the audience had hard time believing his words.  
Then it all stopped. And Berwald spoke, his voice as calm as before:  
"Hello, my dear boy, I couldn’t wait to speak to you. How’s your mother?’’  
"She’s fine, grandpa! We are all fine. We’ve started with the olive thing and it is going great, it was your idea, wasn’t it?’’ The young man began a careless chatter with his deceased grandparent whom he never actually knew and who was preassembly speaking through the medium with the flattest delivery possible. It didn’t seem to bother him.  
"And how about your sibling?’’  
"My big brother? Fine and grumpy so mostly fine, you know how he is.’’ He smiled widely.  
"Excuse me,’’ the lady in pink suddenly rose her voice towards the medium’s assistant because even as nervous he was, he seemed to be more sane at the moment. ‘’When would I speak with somebody? There must be somebody waiting for me, I know a lot people who are dead.”  
Berwald didn’t even wait for the question to be directed to him. He just blinked, cleared his throat and said:  
"Yes.’’  
"That must be her sister,’’ said the gentlemen sitting next to the woman. "One of them at least. She has tons of them, don’t you?”  
"It’s a man.’’  
There was a very visible confusion.  
"Is it my father? He said he didn’t believe in ghosts so it would be really rude to come here as such.’’ The lady was bending over the table, trying to remain the eye-contact with the medium. With doing so she was probably the bravest person in the room.  
"It is your husband.’’  
"Aha!’’ exclaimed the man sitting next to the lady. "She has only had one husband and it is me! Wonderful scam, I almost got tricked!’’  
If somebody from the audience knew Berwald well enough, they would had noticed that he had just almost smiled.  
"He says: ‘Maria, don’t you remember the wine on the steps of the City of Roses?”  
“I… remember. Is it you, my dear? It has been so long…’’ The woman looked as if she was going to faint, her eyes were wet, her hands trembling, the colorful stones of the rings she was wearing were flickering like small, distant stars. Her husband, on the other hand, was utterly shocked, he was closing and opening his mouth like a fish out of water.  
“Maria, what are you…’’ the man finally spoke.  
"Shhh, I’ll explain it later, just, please, for now, I need to.. Can I speak to him, mister?’’ Her voice became softer, almost silk-like.  
"Yes,’’ Berwald said and let the dead man speak through himself.  
  
  
"Nice show, nice tricks.’’ The room was being cleared by the medium’s assistant. He was surprisingly quick and methodical with it. All the candles had already been packed, the oil lamps lightening the cabin with in a far less mystical way. But it wasn’t the assistant who spoke. It was a fair-haired man, the same who had been playing nonchalantly with the candle flame at the beginning of the meeting. During the whole presentation he kept a cocky smile on his lips. The boy who had came with him was currently sitting on one of the chairs, waiting with the not-childlike calm.  
"Excuse me?” the assistant looked over his shoulder as he was carefully folding the tablecloth with the occult symbols on it.  
“He thinks we are faking it, Timo,’’ spoke a person called Berwald. He was sitting nearby, tired expression on his face, keeping a wet towel to his forehead. He got a killing headache.  
"Well, we are not.’’ Timo brushed it off continuing his work. "Spiritualism is a real, scientific…’’  
"I don’t say that it is all bullshit. But I saw some real medium last year in Ferr and it was nothing like this. But your show was nice, almost true. Almost.’’ The man was playing with the pocket watch he had just got out. It seemed that he liked to keep his hands occupied. "You were pulling the tablecloth to make the plate move.’’  
"Or it could be magic.’’ The assistant packed the tablecloth carefully to a fatigued suitcase. ‘’I used to study it, you know, sir? But it wasn’t me this time. It was this young man’s grandpa Publius. Was it Publius, Ber?’’  
The medium murmured something which could be interpreted in any way.  
"I think we are done here. There is going to be some sort of concert or something?’’ Timo scratched his head. "In this room, I mean, they’ll come to rearrange all of it in a moment.’’ He made a vogue gesture. “Did you like the séance?’’ The assistant turned to the boy. He frowned a little bit.  
"I guess. It was… entertaining.’’ He concentrated really hard to say it and sounded as if was repeating after somebody. His older companion burst into laughter hearing this.  
"Look what a clever man we have!’’ His words seemed surprisingly genuinely. He messed the boys hair. “And he also speaks for me! Nice show, I worth seeing it again. Just get less obvious with your tricks. Good luck and goodbye!’’ He waved his hand and Timo smiled as both of the last viewers were walking out of the cabin.  
"Goodbye to you as well, Gilbert.’’  
The man looked over his shoulder with a slightly surprised look just a second before the door closed.  
"What an asshole,’’ Timo commented lightheartedly, picking up the packed up suitcase. Meanwhile a man previously called Berwald whose name was, in fact Bernhard, got up from the chair, the towel still pressed to his forehead.  
"You’re too patient.’’  
"I just wanted to keep this place in a decent state. I have a feeling that the captain is only waiting to charge us with the full-payment for the cruise so we need to behave. No, well, furniture breaking. And besides, you were accused of faking too!’’  
"But you were doing the talking.’’  
They went out of the cabin, on the corridor outside there were already some nervous people with brooms and buckets so getting past them was a real task but with a little bit of teamwork and ‘excuse me’ and ‘oh sorry’ they managed to accomplish it.  
"Let’s put the stuff back and go to eat something.’’  
"Agreed.” Bernhard nodded. “He looked surprised.’’  
"That guy? I bet he was! He didn’t know I knew his name,’’ Timo said happily.  
"How?  
“I overheard the kid talking to him at the canteen.’’ He shrugged.  
"He will spend a sleepless night.’’ There was a playful flicker in the Bernhard’s eyes.  
"It would definitely be fair. I hope we’ll not see him at the canteen. Him or somebody of that sort.’’  
"Agreed.’’  
  
  
"No, actually, my patron is the god of family and wisdom but…’’ The priestess scrubbed her chin. "I am able to appreciate the other gods and the gifts they give us.’’  
The canteen was crowded and noisy. Even if Timo and Bernhard wanted to eat alone, it was not an option as almost all the chairs were taken. In the end they were forced to seat at the same table as a round-faced priestess with a shaved head and a big, silver medallion of a hand with a heart on her neck. The woman was extremely polite and enthusiastic, the latter being the catastrophic in the results. It was hard to tell what was a direct cause of Bernhard’s mood: the séance, the headache, the conversation with Gilbert, but the final touch was definitely the happy demeanor of the priestess.  
Nevertheless, the fact was that they started speaking about religion and it couldn’t end up well as Bernhard was in his _mood_ and had his _experience_ which he rarely talked about but it surely was affecting his whole life.  
Bernhard looked at the priestess skeptically, taking a sip from a mug. She must have taken it as an encouragement but in fact it was rather a silent challenge.  
"Well, for example I do understand the gift of the merciful death from the Blue Goddess. I can certainly value Ytta’s Hand’s Blessing…’’  
Bernhard’s eyes were piercing at the moment. He could make his gaze so intimidating that it was almost burning through the wooden tables and he was taking a full advantage of this ability.  
"What would you say about the God of Hunt?’’ he said in a low voice. Timo looked at his friend, probably knowing that his cool and restrained behavior are only a mask covering the real mess his emotions were. Which, by the way, was not unusual or odd for him. He was just a person constantly hiding a destructive force inside of him, the plus was that he had gotten used to it by now. So maybe the world would not blow out that soon.  
"I do appreciate Him as well. Do you find it funny?” the priestess asked, slightly offended after caching Timo's slightly amused gaze.  
“Please, I was just, pardon me, I assumed you would be more fond of peace and well, the God of Hunt is often portrayed as cruel, merciless and-"  
This time the priestess actually smiled.  
"I know probably what do you mean. But you’re both wrong and right. Well, I am a peace-lover, indeed, however, the God of Hunt is not only the patron of the oppressors! Quite on the contrary!”  
It seemed that Bernhard almost choked on the cooked cabbage he was swallowing at the moment. It would be a truly pitiful end of his long journey, not exactly a heroic way to kick the bucket. Probably actually hitting the bucket would be less humiliating.  
"Really?” asked Timo casually, hitting his friends back to make him cough out the cunning vegetable.  
"Is your friend all right?” The priestess looked worried, her blue eyes got even more watery than they were in the first place.  
“Fine,’’ said Bernhard hoarsely, sounding terribly not fine. But clearly he could breath so it wasn’t that bad.  
"Oh, well, so, I guess…’’  
"You were talking about this hunt guy.’’ Timo clearly wanted to put the conversation on the right track again.  
"The God of Hunt. The Forest Lord, The Master of the Chase…’’ It was a miracle that Bernhard managed to look more and more offended with each title the priestess willingly delivered. "He is not only what you think he is. Actually, I can tell you my favorite story of him. It is easier to understand what do I mean…’’  
Timo gave a "go-on’’ gesture and Bernhard nodded, his eyes a little bit more weary and red than before.  
"There was a lord, wealthy and powerful,’’ the woman began her story sounding like if she was repeating something she had learnt long time ago. ‘’If he lifted one finger – one hundred of armed man would come to fight for him until death. If he lifted two fingers – one hundred of the most beautiful women would come to warm his bed. If he lifted three fingers – the bath of wine and rose petals would be prepared for him.’’  
Timo made a face as if he wanted to say something totally not necessarily so Bernhard gave him a piercing gaze just to prevent it from happening.  
"And he had a daughter that he loved so much. When she ran away with her lover, the lord felt devastated. So he prayed to the God of Hunt, prayed for three nights, sacrificed countless birds for his glory. He promised that shall the god help him hunt down the ran-away daughter, he would sacrifice her lover to the deity. After that the lord called his people, took the horses, took the vicious dogs and played the horn: the hunt began. All this swordsman, all these riders, all these dogs were searching for days and weeks, day after day, week after week. A month passed, then another. Neither the daughter nor her lover were found. Thus the lord prayed to the God of Hunt again, eyes fiery, heart mad. And the Forest Lord arrived, his face horned, his eyes bright like stars. ‘Why didn’t you help me, my lord?’ the mortal asked. ‘My daughter is laughing at me, she took my honor away with her.’ The God of Hunt smiled and said: ‘So wrong of you, my lord, thinking that your daughter could have deprived you of your honor. You took it away from yourself!’ And he laughed at the mortal his voice rumbling as a thunder in the deep forest.’’  
The priestess looked at both men with the self-satisfaction so pure that they didn’t know how to react to this.  
"So he doesn’t listen to the prayers…?’’ asked Timo to clarify the meaning of the story.  
"He just looks beyond them,’’ woman continued with skipping a bit. ‘’Because the hunt has more than just the hunter, there is also the prey and if you call a god to intervene, you have to bear in mind that He can judge you.’’  
"So he’ll just do whatever he wants to,’’ Bernhard summed it up, thinking how convenient it all is.  
"Human mind cannot comprehend gods’ deeds.’’  
  
  
"Bullshit,’’ said Bernhard a few hours and a bottle of cheap, local wine and the conversation with the priestess after. Currently he had no shoes, no vest and no reluctance to speak what he thought. Which was a very dangerous state for him and his surroundings but only within the reach of his voice and arms as he probably couldn’t get up successfully no matter what. When he was drunk he usually became more talkative and flushed but the real affect of the alcohol was not visible until he tried to walk. He had a tendency to fall down like a cut down tree, especially taking his height into consideration.  
At the moment, however, Bernhard was sitting, the gloom was radiating from him in waves almost tangible in the stuffy cabin.  
"In general?’’ Timo asked, his voice sleepy as he already felt half-asleep, lying on the bed just above his friend’s.  
"This priestess. God’s will-’’  
Timo wanted to nod but he remembered that Bernhard wasn’t actually able to see him so he didn’t bother himself with unnecessary movements.  
"You think I’m overreacting?’’  
"Well… she said what she thought and didn’t know that somebody actually tried to send the God of Hunt after you…’’  
Bernhard was silent for a few seconds, proceeding the whole statement in his not so sober mind. Timo was almost fully positive that his friend smashed himself at least partially because of the previous conversation with the priestess. Usually Bernhard was the one who didn’t drink that much.  
"He killed me.’’  
"He just thinks he did that…’’  
"Same.’’ The thing about Bernhard’s anger was that it was clear as a cut, cold on the surface and hot inside. Drunken anger was just less rational.  
"Maybe for him but not for you. Being alive is far different from being dead, isn’t it?’’ Timo was fully awake at this point and he decided to take an advantage of that.  
"You think I’m overreacting.’’  
The cabin felt even more stuffy after this declaration and the silence that followed. It didn’t last long, fortunately.  
"About the priestess? Yeah, probably. About your brother? No, I don’t think so. Because of that I’m here, I want to help, remember?’’  
Bernhard was considering something silently, almost _digesting_ some idea in himself. The result wasn’t promising. He shifted on his bed.  
"I’m going out’’ he announced.  
Timo, knowing better how it would end up now spoke with a worry:  
"Maybe not…?’’ But Bernhard was already getting up and this was a process and not an easy one. ‘’You’ll fall out and drawn…’’  
What come instead of an answer was a low thud when Bernhard’s body hit the floor. A falling down tree, indeed.


	2. The night story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes are getting closer and closer to their destiny, meanwhile they reach a time during the festivities and have hard time finding a place to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More cameos, more spirits, more drama, probably more bad humor as well. Enjoy!

’’Nothing?”  
The innkeeper shook her head.  
"Not even a bed?”  
"You two on a single bed?’’ The look the woman gave them was saying: ‘’You, my boy, are maybe short but I swear your mother wasn’t feeding you only bread and water, not to mention that your friend could be a result of a very lovely night between a man and a giant.’’ Timo almost heard the exact words in his mind.  
"Well, one can sleep on the floor…’’  
"And pay for one bed?” The woman was certainly born for this business. ’’Doesn’t really matter, no beds also. Not until the festival ends.’’  
"And when does it…” Timo began but Bernhard interrupted him:  
’’Is there any place nearby where we can go?”  
The innkeeper looked as if she had just witnessed the mountain speak.  
"Maybe… maybe the Happy Fox has something. They aren’t popular and there is always at least that one spare room…’’  
People tend to have a specific, built-in sensor which allow them to avoid certain shady situations. The problem was that Timo’s natural alarm was malfunctioning and Bernhard wasn’t exactly the best in all types of social relations. Because of these, both males happily ignored any alarming connotations of the innkeeper’s words and equipped with certain information regarding the directions, headed towards the Happy Fox.  
  
The city was preparing for the festivities. The shop windows were being decorated with festoons and colorful, paper cut-outs. The most visible aspect was probably the fish motif of the decorations. It was present literally everywhere: in the windows, on the balconies, at the stalls. A few people even were already wearing fish-shaped-hats. They looked extremely pleased with themselves.  
Timo was clearly amused as well.  
"You have so much fun here,’’ he commented after noticing a bright, shining sign with a singing salmon on it.  
"Not exactly my place. We were living in a different town up north.’’ Bernhard was doing his best trying not to dwell on the fact that his hip was hurting while walking due to his unfortunate drunken actions. "But I've been here for a few times."  
“I can imagine. I was, well, living at the same place and it happened to be quite a big city so I didn’t travel that much outside. The academy as in fact the first time…’’ He frowned probably remembering something he rather had had forgotten.  
"I wore a salmon-hat once,’’ said Bernhard in his usual, deadpan tone. But he did look at Timo for just a second to observe his reaction. He smiled widely, his teeth showing.  
"Who would have guessed…" Timo narrowly avoided bumping into a statue of a man with a bear’s head what somehow resulted into him walking on somebody’s feet and showering the said person with very awkward apologies.  
"I was ten. My brother laughed at me, I punched him in the face and took his hat.’’ Bernhard ensured that his friend was all right and was speaking as if he was commenting on the weather but the look in his eyes could tell that he was somehow enjoying the entire story.  
"And what was his hat exactly?”  
"Also a salmon.’’  
The expression Timo made was a very vivid evidence of him lacking any siblings. It was a shock mixed with evident confusion. If Bernhard was a more expressive person, he would definitely laugh at that. However, taking the current state o being into consideration, is face could break if he attempted to even smile widely.  
"Is that a fox?” he asked instead, pointing towards a very particular sign painted on one of the buildings.  
"Well, it is a fox if you paint it without seeing a fox in your entire life.’’ Timo had to look up on the sign and cover his eyes from the sunshine to examine the drawing properly. "But it looks happy!”  
"Looks like it’s about to eat somebody.’’  
"But he’s happy about that, you cannot deny it. It must be there.’’  
"Hm.’’ Bernhard scratched his chin. For some reason the building they were looking at was painted in way which suggested that the whole work was done by somebody’s niece in exchange for a bottle of bad alcohol. The fact that the wall seemed to be a local piss-spot for all the drunkards also didn’t add any prestige to this location. There were also at least two small birches growing on the building’s roof, just on its edge.  
"It seems nice,’’ Timo decided cheerfully and it was unclear if he was joking or not.  
  
  
"Your aura is very unique.’’ The nice, middle-aged woman was cleaning the table with a cloth, leaning over it while her sister was standing behind her, counting money in silence. She was examining the coins and banknotes offensively carefully and Bernhard would swear her gaze was actually able to freeze a man. He felt really oddly noticing this as it was usually him who caused such feelings to appear in other people.  
"He’s a medium,’’ explained Timo without any restrains. Bernhard noticed how his friend tried not to stare around but it was clear that he was very fascinated with the stuffed bear behind the counter.  
"Are you?’’ The woman stopped the cleaning for a while to stretch her back. Her smile was nice and warm like a sip of homemade soup after a particularly chilly day. Bernhard wasn’t used to women giving him this kind of expression either. He didn’t know how to react. Should he smile back? Would that be a good idea though? He had heard that his smile was like this of a hungry alligator showing of his teeth, once he was even compared to an angry piranha with diarrhea.  
Fortunately Timo could do the smiling for both of them. And he did, gladly. Bernhard just nodded, looking briefly at the other woman who seemed to count the whole sum for at least third time.  
"That explains it. But I was referring to your friend.’’  
The said friend’s good humor immediately disappeared.  
"I almost became a mage,’’ he explained with some hesitation and Bernhard could swear that the silent woman looked at them for just a split second, her stare cold and sharp.  
"You can still try, sir, in this profession getting older is just getting better. Everybody respects a mage with a proper beard,’’ commented the nicer half of the female duo. "Nat, is everything all right?”  
Nat who possibly could beat the Lady Winter himself with her bare hands said:  
"Yes. The room is yours. Don’t burn it down. Today we have potatoes and pork for dinner.’’ Her voice was as pleasant as a sound of claves scratching the metal.  
"I have an idea, actually, hey, maybe you could prepare a séance for the guests? We will pay you of-"  
"I don’t need any ghosts at my inn. The guests are enough,’’ declared Nat immediately, hiding the money in a very fatigued purse. Meanwhile the said guests consisted mainly of extremely hangover individuals, gather in the darkest corner of the inn. At least half of them looked suspiciously dead.  
“Well, we don’t practice inviting ghosts to the someone else’s inns, madam, we will certainly avoid it at any cost and if-" Timo started speaking with some poorly hidden nervousness.  
"Just don’t do it.’’ Nat cut in his stutter. "Up the stairs, third door on the left, don’t open the window – it can fall out. No pets, no magic making, all clear?’’  
Bernhard didn’t particularly believe in reincarnation but he would swear that his long dead father could have somehow been reborn as this woman. He certainly didn’t feel very comfortable with this thought.  
They followed the directions and found themselves in a small room, all walls covered in tapestry which probably used to be bright yellow but turned almost white by this time. The floor was wooden and every step could awake a concert of bangs and creaks. It was not that different for other rooms they had already visited during the whole journey. Hopefully, it was going to end soon.  
Timo put a suitcase on the bed and looked through the window, a fat seagull looked at him back from the other side.  
"They have the bathhouse in the basement,’’ he observed. "In the other house, I mean, I would kill to get there."  
"She smiled to me.’’ Bernhard was still in shock after the said event.  
His friend looked at him over his shoulder.  
"The nicer one? Yeah, she smiled at us.’’  
"More to me, it was odd, all the time people smile only to you.’’  
"Well, I smile to you.’’ Timo wore a very peculiar expression on his face but Bernhard didn’t pay attention at this time. He was too preoccupied with getting out of his cloak. The day was already too warm for it and he didn’t want to be an object of any extra attention.  
"You smile to everybody,’’ he just replied.  
"This is mostly true but I do not smile in the same way.’’  
Bernhard actually smirked.  
"Like yesterday on the ferry. You were thinking about throwing a fireball at this guy.’’  
Timo turned around, very offended, he rose a finger.  
"I did not! Fire in such places could be really dangerous, you know? There is wood, all this small spaces and such.’’ But he didn’t say that he wouldn’t use it in different circumstances and Bernhard was pretty sure that his friend was fully aware of the meaning of every word he said. Or at least, he thought so. Surprisingly for an ex-almost-mage, Timo wasn’t very good with words. Maybe, well, considering the _ex_ part it wasn’t unusual at all.  
"So, I’m definitely going to check out this bathhouse and how about you?”  
“I’ll stay, take a nap.’’ Bernhard wasn’t in a mood for meeting any other people, especially without his clothes on.  
"As you wish!’’ Timo’s vigorous steps could be probably heard in the whole inn as he walked down the stairs. Bernhard sat on the bed, took of his shoes and laid down, looking at the ceiling. The last coherent though he formed was about the weirdly-shaped, fisherman-like stain he saw above his head.  
  
  
The cold was everything, it had consumed the whole world, swallowed the fields, the cities, the deepest valleys and highest mountains. And Bernhard was drowning, freezing to the bare bone, his blood turning into ice, his skin fragile, his eyes shuttered into billion pieces, his scream dead in his lugs.  
And it hurt, it hurt and hurt, the pain overwhelming, overtaking, overpowering. The water sharp, cold and deadly, closing him in this infinite, perfect moment of dying and suffering.  
Bernhard woke up half-expecting hearing Timo speaking to himself in his sleep. Usually he was just mumbling some nonsense about eggs, flowers and for some reason, also dogs. However not this time, Bernhard laid on his beck, wide awake, very surprised that the piercing cold wasn’t exactly gone by this point. The room was dark - he must have slept for a few hours.  
And then he _heard_ something or rather somebody. He rose on his elbows, recognized the problem and decided that he really didn’t want to deal with this exact situation on his own.  
  
It was already dark outside and at this point the main room of the inn was crowded despite the fact that the beer they served had almost nothing to do with the actual hop. It had something to do with the festivities going on – you can pour anything in yourself while wearing a fish-shaped, paper hat. The place was shaking with sudden outburst of laughter, in the background someone was singing a rather bawdy song about the Lady of the Sea, giving a special attention to her generosity and impressive breasts.  
"And why the bear's head…?!” Timo had to shout to be heard at the table he was sitting by. It must be admitted that shouting was not the thing his voice was designed for.  
"Cuz he’s kinda like a bear, my friend!” the noticeably drunken girl shouted back.  
“And why is the rest human?!”  
The girl smiled widely, all her teeth showing.  
"Cuz he’s also kinda like a human, my friend!’’  
"I don’t get it!’’ Timo shouted back, feeling his voice already almost giving up. “Cheers!”  
"Cheers, cheers!”  
This was a picture Bernhard didn’t really fit into. He walked down from the stairs, pale like a damned soul, his mouth narrowed into a straight line, his gaze intense, his shirt hanging on him like on a scarecrow. A few people did looked at him but probably assumed that he was also drunk, it was not uncommon in this room. But the aura surrounding him was very sober and very gloomy. Timo could almost taste it on his tongue. Judging by the way one of the innkeepers suddenly laid down the tray she was caring and rushed out to the kitchen, she also felt the upcoming troubles.  
Timo decided to deal with the issue, he stood up from the table, saying something awkward to the people gathered there, and approached Bernhard with a hurry, desperately trying not to flip and break a leg on the way. They stood near the wall, almost leaning on each other to hear the words in this whole noise.  
"Hey, I thought you were sle-‘’  
"There is a dead man in the room.’’  
Timo blinked, probably searching for any evidence of a joke.  
“Shit.’’  
“Not that I killed him.’’  
"I didn-‘’  
"He’s a ghost.’’  
Timo looked both confused and relived.  
"So we just say politely ‘goodbye’ and not mention anything to those ladies. They don’t wish to have such problems here.’’  
Bernhard smiled and it was not a pleasant smile. It could give some creeps to even the bravest of people. The half of the effect was caused by the mere fact that the man’s face was not often seen with such an expression.  
"He was already there.’’  
The full realization hit Timo right in the face, he paled and something in his eyes changed. It was one o these moments when his mind as probably started wrapping itself around the idea that there are worse things than getting into prison for casting some unlicensed spells. Instead of it, however, he just made a gesture to lead his friend into the kitchen where he saw one of the owners disappearing in.  
  
  
Nat was calm as a stone and was holding a rather impressive knife, it looked sharp enough to stand back. The other woman wasn’t that subtle, she had a whole iron bar in her hands. This was the picture Bernhard and Timo encountered as soon as they entered the kitchen and they decided they need to rethink their strategy immediately.  
"The room is haunted!’’ Traditionally, the ex-student was one doing the talking. Bernhard stayed in the back, looking intimidating, ready to grab his friend and run away with him if the situation get any worse.  
“And how’s that a problem for you?’’ Nat asked coldly on the outside but with almost unnoticeable hint of anger. “Aren’t you spiritualists as you said?”  
"Well, we are but we don’t deal with such problems, we just call some dead relatives to talk about kids and weather…!”  
"So talk about that with him and leave us alone,’’ the woman ordered through clenched teeth. Bernhard thought that he could deal with that, the lady was certainly frightening but she busied herself with speaking, while the other woman seemed to be fully prepared to just bit him down with her metal bar – he was definitely more aware of her because of that. "Why did you think such a room would be empty on the Lady of the Sea Celebration, huh? Of course it is haunted.’’  
There was some logic to it.  
"Well, look, he’s not that problematic, he just talks a lot. You can just stay in there, you would not find another place to sleep tonight,’’ argued the other lady, not lowering her bar even for a second.  
"No refunds,’’ added the other woman.  
"What if we get rid of him?” Bernhard heard himself saying. The silence that fell afterwards was very particular. The man forced himself not to peek at Timo who certainly looked at him with disbelief, his eyes comically big.  
There was some kind of silent exchange between both women.  
"If you really can make him leave for good maybe half…’’ Nat began but the other, still not known by the name, lady interrupted her:  
"We’ll give your money back.’’  
And that was the final agreement.  
  
The bedroom was freezing cold. Their warm breaths were visible in the air, the glass in the windows turned hazy and milky, the moon shone thought it illuminating the whole scene, creating an eerie atmosphere. Timo didn’t like it so he lighted the lamp he was holding.  
"All right, do you see him?’’ he whispered.  
“He stands just before you,’’ Bernhard answered in his regular tone. “Doesn't look pleased.’’  
_"Because I am not pleased!_ The ghost’s voice ringed in the medium’s ears. It was distant, almost like it was coming from the bottom of the well. The irritation was so evident and vibrant that Bernhard could feel it even in his teeth. _Why can’t you all just leave me alone to suffer my tragic, absolutely cruel fate?_  
There is a point in every relation when you one can easily tell if the collaboration is going to run smoothly or not. In this case it happened really fast.  
“We could help you.’’ Bernhard looked at Timo who was obviously clueless as he couldn’t really hear the ghost, not to mention seeing him. Once he explained that all he could feel was some vibrations coming from the certain direction and he never actually bothered to try surviving near-death experience to check out if he had some medium potential. Which was understandable, by the way.  
_’’I have already said that leaving me alone would help me the best, thank you very much!’’_  
“Is he answering…?’’asked Timo hesitantly.  
“More like shoutin-‘’ A this point a lonely fern in a flowerpot fell from the wardrobe and flew through the room to crash on the wall. The ghost was definitely more violent than the owners had assured and Bernhard felt uneasy. What if they end up with broken skulls? It was his idea after all and he didn’t want to deliver his friend the near-death experience that soon.  
“Excuse me, sir’’ Timo began with his polite “customer” voice which ability to use was one of the reasons why he was usually the one doing most of the talking. In order to help him, Bernhard touched his back to make him turn around in the right direction to face the ghost. The spectre was radiating anger to that point that the medium felt the prelude to an up-coming headache. “We didn’t wish to cause you any trouble and, well, we really could help you that nobody would ever bother you again. What’s your name, sir?”  
“He says ‘Feliks’,” Bernard explained, the relief washing through him as soon as he wasn’t the one running the negotiations.  
“All right, so, sir Feliks, what is your burden?” Timo tried to remain calm but his friend could see the excitement slipping into his words.  
Bernhard listened for a while, not saying anything, the minute has passed, then another and it looked as if he was just frozen in place, doing nothing. Bur after a while he finally said:  
“It will take a while. I’ll let you speak through me.’’  
And that was what happened. His voice didn’t really change, his expression remained calm but Timo knew and felt something was off. The choice of words was particularly strange for Bernhard. This is what was said though his mouth:  
“I was murdered in the cold blood, killed like a dog, can you imagine it? And not by some total strangers, oh no, of course not, I knew them all very well. I spoke with them, greeted them on the streets, we visited the same temples, ate by the same tables, worked together, planned together, dreamt together. We were partners, I guess you know how it is, so we were partners and we had some ups and downs, as it always is. I had ideas, they had money, they had business minds, I designed the machines, they made them come into life. How good does that sound, ha? Pretty good, I think. And it was, indeed, fabulous, for some time of course. The ships with our engines were sailing from Venc to the continent, back and forth. I could see them from the windows of my workshop and my heart was in such an absolute joy!”  
“So what happened?” asked Timo and if Bernhard hazily observed that his friend suddenly looked almost hungry.  
“I wanted to leave, I could do better on my own! But I knew I would so I said that I was leaving, taking my all plans with me. And they agreed and invited me, well, for a farewell party. It was wonderful, the food, the people, the drinks but they did it! They poisoned the last glass, I went out, everything felt weird and I collapsed right down on the road.’’  
“Wait, sir, on the road? So why are you here?”  
“Would you like to spend your eternal un-life on a road? I would not, certainly. The last thing I saw was the dirt on the road and this very same dirt was brought here on the shoes of this poor soul who had found my lifeless body.’’  
Timo blinked as if he was trying to remain solemn.  
“The dirt?”  
“Yes, the dirt, it fell deep down between the wooden boards, there is no way you can get rid of me without destroying the room.’’  
“Is there another option, sir?” Timo’s voice became slightly sweet and even if Bernhard knew that it was for the purpose of stroking the obviously self-absorbed ghost’s ego, he felt somehow uneasy about it.  
“I want to spit these damn vipers right in their false faces. I will go away as soon as I do so.’’  
It wasn’t what Bernhard would have expected, he thought the ghost would be more vicious and cruel and order them to kill his ex-partners or scalp them and kill afterwards but spiting didn’t sound that harmful.  
“I think it could be done, what if they are dead already?” asked Timo.  
“I could spit on their graves. Not that important.”  
“So we’ll go there and do it for you and…”  
“No, sunshine, you clearly misunderstood me. I’m going to do this.” Bernhard’s voice became somehow different as the ghost spoke. _“Via your friend’s body, he seems suitable.”_  
That was the moment when Bernhard wanted to cry out but all he felt was the cold overtaking him, filling up his mind and shutting down his soul. He was frozen and his body wasn’t his anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally called this part "tapeworm2'' in my files.  
> I hope you liked that, thank you for reading!


	3. The old man's story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter our heroes discover some parts of the ghost's story, learn that the whole thing is more difficult than they thought and Bernhard has a hard time, as always. It is still not very serious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added a tag for Feliks, he's earned it.  
> I want to dedicate this chapter to my dear friend K. who will maybe encounter it one day.  
> Enjoy the story!

When Bernhard was a little kid, because he certainly used to be one, even if by the age of twelve he was already looking like an oversized scarecrow, he was learning how to ride a horse. After he finally was put in the saddle, his heart racing, his hands sweating, he was very nervous. Luckily for him nothing bad happened, soon the supervision wasn’t strict anymore and he enjoyed freedom to some extent. One day during the regular, sunny, family trip, his horse got scarred by the snake which was calmly enjoying the sunrays, lying down lazily on the stony road. The panic that stormed, the horror and the surprised caused Bernhard to lose control over the animal. The result was a rapid, dramatic race he survived only by the sheer stubbornness and the strong grip he had developed. Being actively possessed by a ghost was very similar, however Bernhard felt colder and there was no possibility for swallowing any flies while screaming. In fact, the scream, the audible one, wasn’t even an option for him. But fortunately for Bernhard he was an expert in the internal screaming so that was exactly what he was doing right now.  
He felt the presence of someone else in the place where there used to be only him. The intruder’s feelings and memories were so close, the barrier separating them from Bernhard only symbolical. To be able to tell what is his an what is not he actually had to concentrate. Why was he suddenly knowing people he had never seen with his own eyes? Why was he thinking the thoughts crossing his mind? Was the anger he felt his or the other’s? Why was he looking at his friend through his own eyes almost like the other one was some sort of a stranger?  
But the worst was the cold that embraced him. The freezing grip, holding him tightly, sharp and merciless. The memories had brought were not the pleasant once. They were the reasons Bernhard sometimes had trouble sleeping. The memory of the fiercely cold water and the burning of suffocation.  
He tried finding something to hold on to. Anything that would save him from this madness. He reduced his entire self to this search, desperate yet stubborn. As many of his actions were fueled by the sheer stubbornness (which made him a real pain in the ass - some would certainly say), by some miracle he managed to find something and hold on to it. It was almost like if some other hand was reaching through his memories to him.  
Bernhard remembered one, oddly particular moment or rather a smell. It was sweet, lingering and bringing a sense of secure he didn’t understand but at that time it didn’t really matter. All he could think of was the fact that this little thing was helping him not to lose his own being to an alien spirit. Musing on the exact connotations and connections wasn’t necessarily the most important issue at the moment. He would think about it later.  
At some point he noticed he was lying on the floor. The feeling was dull as it wasn’t entirely him (which was the case) but he was actually aware of it. However, he had no idea what were the events leading up to this point.  
Above him (them?) was Timo. His face was blank, his expression unreadable except for his eyes which were fiery. They were burning with fury. Fortunately, Bernhard hazily understood that he wasn’t the object of it.  
_“He’s still there, all right? No need for making such a fuss!”_ Feliks was speaking rapidly and it was surprising that Bernhard’s own mouth could even move that fast.  
“Prove it.” Timo sounded cold, unlikely for himself. It would be deeply disturbing for his friend if he didn’t have enough of his own trouble.  
Something shifted and suddenly Bernhard was back on the surface. His back hurt, his previously hit hip was not in any better shape and falling down didn’t actually help its recovery.  
“Why am I on the floor?” was the first question Bernhard asked. Timo’s features softened.  
“I’m sorry, I panicked.” He indeed looked apologetic , the air smelled of magic quite significantly. It was a very characteristic, sharp scent. “I can go instead of you or I could try…?”  
Bernhard was almost certain that the second thing Timo wanted to suggest was that he could possibly try to remove the unwanted ghost from his friend. However, there was a huge possibility of him boiling the poor man’s brain in the process. After all, Timo didn’t get his license, did he? What is more, maybe he did have some theoretical classes on self de-possession but it didn’t necessarily mean that everything would play out smoothly and he could get rid of the ghost from himself.  
These were the rational reasons why Bernhard answered with a simple:  
“No.”  
But there was also another cause for that, far less reasonable: Bernhard’s pride wouldn’t allow him to just claim that he was afraid of some random spirit. These two factors together created an uniquely dangerous situation but the medium was the last person to admit that.  
_“I think so,”_ he heard a voice in the back of his mind. The cold was still there, still present, restless, ready to take over and extremely irritating. _”I would never go with him. He smells badly.”_  
Bernhard would argue with that as his friend actually looked clean and must had gone to the bathhouse as he had happily declared before.  
“Are you sure?” Timo’s voice was low and worried.  
Bernhard gridded his teeth and nodded. At this point the whole thing became a matter of honor for him and that was the worst sign. He was the one who had came with the whole idea and he was the one who would have to deal with the result. He would not let the cold win. So he accepted his friend’s hand with getting up, feeling the coldness spreading through his body.  
_“You are far too dramatic, I’m not even very dead.”_ If the voice inside medium’s head was a color, it would be a vibrant, eye-hurting yellow. It was like drills directed straightly into his mind, cutting it into wet, pitiful pieces. Soon Bernhard lost control over his body once again but this time he was prepared.  
  
  
Feliks was nosy. He was picking through Bernhard’s memories without any shame and the medium had to shut the doors on his fingers all the time, metaphorically speaking, of course. However, the outside world, the colorful, overblown celebration provided just the right amount of distraction. The air smelled sweetly between the stalls where the cakes were being sold, the dim light of lamps and lanterns reflecting in sugary coating. By the universal law, just nearby the impressive pots of boiling cabbage were situated, the steam rising into the night air.  
_”I haven’t eaten in years, quite literally”_ Feliks complained aloud. He was using his host’s voice so in theory he should have sounded just like Bernhard but he didn’t. His manner of speech was different, he was speaking in far more expressive way than the medium. He was using words not only like he meant them but also like if he was feeling and living them. Timo was not exactly the best at hiding the confusion and concern clearly painted on his face.  
_But to be honest, you also seem like you haven’t,_ Feliks added only in their currently shared mind.  
Bernhard tried to grit his teeth and he discovered he could actually do it. The ghost didn’t interfere with it, the previous hostility seemed to be gone. At least for now.  
“Well, I think we should hurry if we don’t want to spend another years on the search of your, how to say, ex-friends?” By default Timo was only aware of the audible part of the conversation. After all, he wasn’t a mind reader of some sort or rather nothing had ever indicated it and telepathic powers shouldn’t be just attributed to somebody randomly.  
_“If I remember correctly Roderich is now not exactly in the age allowing him for some rapid escapes._ A cruel giggle that followed this statement wasn’t the most reassuring thing in the world. Bernhard felt slightly offended by the mere fact that such a sound was even possible to be made by his own throat. Treacherous body.  
“Well, he is not a young man anymore, certainly.” Timo sounded as if he wanted to say something completely different.  
_A cotton-wrapper, isn’t he?_ Feliks commented casually and Bernhard completely didn’t understand. The other one felt it.  
_He’s wrapping his words in cotton,_ he explained.  
Bernhard remained clueless.  
_That’s a saying. You don’t speak like that? It means that he tries to sound softer. Pretty annoying._  
If Bernhard was to be asked, he would say that sure, maybe Timo was sometimes not blunt enough but Feliks had no right to call anyone annoying. Not after insolently looking through Bernhard’s memories and commenting on them without permission.  
They took a turn and then another. The main streets remained behind them and they entered the dreamy, eerie world of the night town. There was the light in some of the windows, at some point a laughing group of youths left one of the buildings, they wished two funny strangers luck and happiness and proceeded down the streets, singing something barely recognizable. The walls were echoing their voices for a while.  
Bernhard remembered when he was a kid and the celebration in the name of the Lady of the Sea were being held in his hometown. They had an official dinner and he had to sit calmly in his scratchy, nice shirt. He remembered that what fascinated him and his brother the most was the statue of the Goddess herself – she was naked up from her waist. Years later someone told Bernhard that their parents used to cover the Lady to prevent their children from this view but the medium’s mother considered it a blasphemy.  
Meanwhile Timo and his friend in the company of not quite a wanted cohabitant reached the dark, metal fence, surrounding the garden on the back of one of the buildings. It didn’t look welcoming. Especially not with all these roaring bear-headed reliefs of people, engraved in the stony spans.  
Feliks, on the contrary, seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood.  
_“Everything is as I remember. Here is where he lives, his family has been possessing this building for years. I climbed this fence once, you know?”_ He smiled both proudly and mischievously and Bernhard was fighting the need to smash his own face.  
Timo politely nodded not paying that much attention to this statement. He was scanning the distant building, concern not leaving his eyes. At first glance the house looked like a place where people need permission to even breath near, not to mention to burst in the deep of the night and demand justice for a long dead, unfortunate, forgotten soul who regularly haunts a lousy inn.  
_”Aren’t you going to ask why did I climb this thing…?”_ asked Feliks hesitantly.  
Timo just shrugged, still focused on the house. Bernhard wanted to look in the same direction but he was aware that out of them two – his friend’s eyes were actually better, even in the limited light.  
“Well, you must have had your reasons,” Timo said lightheartedly and Bernhard found it oddly satisfying to feel Feliks’ surprise. “Maybe you got drunk, maybe a jealous husband of some lady was chasing you, maybe you lost a bet – I’m no one to judge,” he continued.  
Bernhard was not prepared for what happened next. A memory appeared like a flash of colorful light: the surprisingly vivid shadows of excitement, fear and short breath, the loving face of an unknown woman, the glimpse of a vision maybe too private for the medium to see. Bernhard felt his face becoming warm with embarrassment. Meanwhile Feliks used this opportunity to ask:  
_“So, you are a mage, you did your hocus-pocus, maybe time for some fence-disappearing or through-metal going?”_  
“I don’t think I have the energy to do it just now,” Timo answered without a second of hesitation. “In fact, I’m no real mage.” That was the way he usually lied – by strategic avoidance of some information.  
Feliks scanned him _carefully._  
It was a peculiar feeling for Bernhard – looking at his friend as if he was a stranger. Feliks was seeing Timo differently. He was paying attention to his face, attempting to read it, having no actual clue how to do it and searching for a hint of deception. Not being able to determine if Timo was lying or not, Feliks reached out to Bernhard, proving that, indeed, he did have some experience in forcing his way through the fences, also the metaphorical ones.  
The result was, to the spirit’s amusement, the observation that Timo technically didn’t lie. He was no real mage. Bernhard caught a stream of thoughts mixed with embarrassment and a mass of question marks. Feliks felt irritated that some sort of university drop out had managed to knock him down before.  
_“All right, so my proposal is to climb this fence.”_  
Timo nodded politely.  
“Well, I think we would try using this hole over there,” he said. “Or the front door because I think…”  
But Feliks didn’t want to know is opinion, he jumped in the direction of the hole. The metal was bended there suitable, enabling a person getting inside of the garden. Bernhard felt uneasy and that slowed the other inhabitant of his body down.  
_All right, you know better how to use it, big guy,_ he said stepping back. The coldness that was him lingered in the pit of Bernhard’s mind. He hated it wholeheartedly with a steady dedication but he had to endure it. He was aware that Feliks observed these feelings but didn’t search for the deeper explanation besides the current situation which was enough on its own.  
So Bernhard tried to get through the bended bars.  
“Ridiculous,” he murmured under his breath.  
“Are you all right?” Bernhard didn’t pay attention to Timo for a second and he was astonished how close he had gotten. His face was yellow in the light of the street lamp at it made him look almost ill.  
“Soon I will,” the medium answered, finally able to fit just right in the tight space and reach the other side of the fence. He heard the sound of the fabric ripping and cursed.  
“Are you still in one piece?” Timo tried to ensure himself. Bernhard touched his arm and it neither fell off, nor hurt like hell so he decided he was probably still attached to him.  
“My shirt is not.”  
_You are overdramatic,_ Feliks decided in the false coziness of their shared mind.  
_Loosing an arm is not that easy._  
I am overdramatic? Which one of us wants to spit some old man in his face? Bernhard thought.  
_At least I clearly know what I want to do when I stand before him. You? You don’t know what to do with your brother and he hasn’t even killed you for real._  
Bernhard shut himself down immediately. He regretted the fact that currently his and Feliks’ faces where the one and the same face because he wanted to punch the other one in it. The ghost interpreted the silence as victory and triumphed.  
“I don’t really think anybody is living here right now.” Timo crossed the fence as well, he was looking around the garden, the sharp light of the street lamp making it all a puzzle of black contours of bushes and trees.  
_”Maybe they are all asleep.”_ Feliks decided to take over. _“The windows are just dark…”_  
Timo did that face when he was pretty convinced that somebody had no idea what they were talking about but he decided to let them get it on their own. Bernhard knew this expression well, although never from that point of view.  
“…Maybe,” he said after a while. “The window down there looks broken.”  
He pointed towards the object he was talking about.  
_“Let’s get closer._ Feliks actually sounded disturbed.  
They walked through the garden, trying to avoid the scratching bushes and paddles, with poor results. In the end they had water in their shoes, fragments of small branches and leaves in their clothes and no dignity left. Feliks actually seemed to at least partially know where to go but years of absence had changed this place significantly. Maybe because of that his frustration was so radiant.  
It became even more apparent when they finally reached the point which allowed them to determine with the thrilling accuracy that this building was, in fact, probably a home for rodents and worms at this point. These windows which weren’t broken – were covered with wooden boards.  
_”Shit.”_ With his eyes wide-open and mouth slightly ajar Feliks looked devastated, the feeling so intense that Bernhard had to remind himself it wasn’t really him.  
_”SHIT!”_ he shouted just a second or two before Timo attempted to silence him with his hand. It was, however, too late. Far too late, in fact.  
“What the hell are you doing in here?!”  
It didn’t sound like a question there was a good answer for. Especially when it was asked by a pissed off man in the middle of the night on the property the certain people should not be on.  
Bernhard didn’t know what to say. Feliks was still angry and hurt and all he wanted to do was mayhem so probably the best thing that could possibly happen was Timo saying:  
“Well, my friend is on a journey for self-discovery.”  
And it wasn’t even a lie.  
  
  
They weren’t kicked off or killed, they didn’t lose their shoes, they didn’t have to run away from the herd of the God of Hunt so they could call themselves lucky. Instead they were sitting in the small building, which Feliks had forgotten as it was covered by the juniper at this point, and telling the old man a completely made up story. It wasn’t the most graceful moment of Bernhard’s life.  
The place was warm and smelled of boiled cabbage and mushrooms. They were sitting in the main room which seemed to be both the kitchen and the living room. The stove was decorated with paper fish, Bernhard spotted also the familiar-looking home shrine in the corner of the room. He used to have a similar thing in his house, however his own was made of fine, dark wood and barely decorative. This one, on the other hand, was brightly-colored and covered with dried flowers. In the main recess there stood a small statue of the Goddess of the Sea and… the man with the head of a bear.  
Feliks was bemused by these observations. He was sure that since Bernhard was from Venc he had to know that one of the most beloved gods here, among the others was…  
_You cannot stand the Lord of the Forest, don’t you?_ the dead man he asked rhetorically.  
But it happened when they entered the building. Right now Bernhard was mainly focused on lying while Feliks was actively helping him by providing the necessary facts and ideas.  
Eventually they produced the story how Bernhard was mister Roderich’s long lost bastard son who wanted to meet with his father on the special day of the celebration. The old man listened to all of it and said:  
“Well, you are very alike.”  
But Feliks laughed in the medium’s mind and said: _No, you are not. Tell him your mother used to say the same thing._  
Bernhard didn’t say it to prevent losing the last bits of his dignity. He looked at Timo for a moment - he was silent and unusually solemn.  
“You will not find your father here. After his wife had died and most of the family fortune was lost, he sold the house and moved out. Hellish story, if I can say that. The new owner doesn’t seem very interested in all of it. No idea why did they buy it, maybe they had some plans before. ” The old man had tired eyes. “He’s not like he used to be, you know? Mister Roderich, I mean. But I see him sometimes in the city, a nice man, very polite.”  
Bernhard nodded, hearing Feliks cursing in the back of his mind. It was quite colorful.  
“Could we possibly meet him?” Timo asked.  
The old man scratched his chin.  
“I guess you could try,” he admitted but didn’t look entirely convinced. “I used to work for them, you know? Before the lady died.”  
Bernhard didn’t want to listen to it. It was making him feel guilty. However, he noticed how stiff Feliks went every time the other man mentioned the wife of Roderich.  
_”How did it happen?_ He forced himself smoothly. Bernhard noticed that his friend twitched on his chair hearing Feliks speaking. He sounded heartbroken.  
“She didn’t feel well.” It was all the man said and the expression on his face was an indication that he would not tell anything more about this certain topic.  
_“How did… my father lose his family fortune?_ Bernhard was certain that Feliks was restraining himself from sounding as if the said information was the source of great entertainment and joy.  
“Some business problems, bad decisions, you know, world is like that. I’ve heard some crazy gossips but I don’t know.” The man shrugged. “Do you need the address?”  
“Yes, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter. I hope that the whole story will unveil nicely before your eyes. I planned this sequence to be shorter but I think it deserved some more focus to bring a better preparation for what is going to come.


	4. The Roderich's story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heros pay a visit to an old man who probably would not like to see them if he was up to choose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it took me so long to update because of a small, uni disaster.  
> Well, a warning here: a suicide mention in this chapter, mentioned and discussed, nothing graphic.  
> Also: thank you for the support I've gotten. 
> 
> Enjoy the story!

Breathing and walking again after years of not doing it was quite an unusual experience which Feliks actually wasn’t really expecting to occur. Yet, there he was, possessing some poor man’s body, at this point almost regretting it. He spent years and years imagining how it would be to be able to confront these pathetic excuses for humans who, as he believed, had prematurely terminated his life. However, there was a certain part of the old servant’s story he didn’t like. Particularly the mention of what had happened to Roderich’s wife. Because of that Feliks needed to think for a while so he remained in the back of the mind, letting the medium control their actions. He was definitely using this body differently, less vigorously and with more ease.  
His friend on the other had seemed to be a completely opposite of the medium. There was some nervousness in is movements and Feliks didn’t like the way that damn almost-mage felt. His aura was odd, very closed, concentrated and the dead man wondered if it was one of the reason why Timo had never gotten his license. Nevertheless, he had proven that he could be dangerous and Feliks was worrying if as soon as he became capable, the man would just get rid of the spirit. He seemed like this kind of person. In this case Feliks would just hope that Bernhard’s unreasonable pride would show up again to prevent the exorcism.  
The medium, by the way, was a fascinating case. His determination had brought him back to Venc after years and if Feliks could make a bet, he would say that he didn’t predict his host a long and fruitful life with this attitude. Especially with the thoughts he had. They were such a mess! Feliks felt them as a fire-hot, viper nest.  
Bernhard was very offended by both the observation and the fact that Feliks was able to make it. The medium’s feelings were like a grey wave of cold air. No the most pleasant thing. Feliks wasn’t exactly surprised that Bernhard didn’t like him. He would certainly not like himself at this moment. However, he had no choice if he had to have some things done.  
_I liked the Lady of the Sea celebration when I was alive. My old man was a fisherman and he was obsessed with giving the Lady those fish heads from the dinner table. I thought it was quite disgusting, always did it with such a celebration. So I never did it personally, I didn’t see the point. But I guess I could have done it. After all, I got so many gifts from the Lady and never gave anything in return so no wonder she demanded my life._ Feliks felt melancholic.  
You have no idea what you are talking about, commented Bernhard.  
_And you have any idea?_  
Some.  
_Enlighten me._  
No.  
Bernhard’s thoughts literally felt rough. Feliks didn’t want to try to get through this wall at the moment. Especially when he heard Timo saying:  
“It must be this place.”  
  
  
Maybe this building looked better in the sunlight but in the darkness it resembled an old, sad creature with the mouth ready to swallow anything that would come close enough. They went up the stairs like some ridiculous parade. Feliks was so nervous that Bernard felt his hands shaking.  
They were about to knock to the right door when Timo looked up at his friend’s face and said:  
“Feliks, if you try anything, I will be right there.” He didn’t specify anything but he had this look on his face the ghost had already decided he didn’t really like seeing.  
_“I just need him to know it is me.”_ He shrugged the worries off, he was a grown man, he could restrain himself bloody well. He knocked and waited, hearing the steps in the apartment as somebody was walking to the door.  
“Who’s there?” came the voice from the other side of the door and if up to this point Feliks could have some restrains – they all disappeared on point. His hot-white fury awoke, almost blinding non-prepared Bernhard.  
_“You killed me, you pathetic hog! Get out and meet your doom!”_ The voice rang in the empty corridor, echoing in the staircase.  
“I advise you to go away, a policeman lives downstairs,” came the answer from behind the door. The man didn’t sound like the evil-embodied. He just seemed to be tired, old and slightly worried. The door of his flat actually looked as if somebody had already tried to put a fist through them.  
“Maybe try more diplomatically?” Timo suggested whispering. Feliks gave him a particularly nasty look but he actually cleared his throat and said in the calmer manner:  
_“You will not get rid of me so easily, Roderich, open the door, I just want to talk.”_ Bernhard knew it was a lie. Talking was just a position on a long list of things the dead man would like to do and he was quite imaginative. However, among all those desires one, specific need was the most intense. Bernhard wouldn’t have guessed if somebody asked him about that but now he didn’t have to guess – he was aware of it the same way he could tell the position of his own body. The thing that Feliks desired the most was the information about the Roderich’s wife – Erzsi, as he called her.  
“Who are you?” the question came. The voice was dulled, coming through the wooden door and for the first time Feliks fully comprehended how old the other one sounded. Bernhard heard it from the beginning as the echoes of the past didn’t disturb his observation. Because of that Feliks’ sudden confusion was so foreign to him.  
_“You knew me years ago. It’s me, Feliks, I’ve came to speak with you.”_ The demand rang in his voice but that was not the element that had caught the attention of the man on the other side of the door.  
“…Don’t be ridiculous. This man’s dead.”  
Bernhard felt a singing triumph rambling in their shared chest.  
“Sir? I know how it sounds but, well, actually, yeah, he is but, erm- my friend, you see, he’s a medium and we happened to encounter mister Feliks in the Happy Fox Inn this evening and things have gotten quite complicated and well, he agreed to leave provided he meets with you…” Timo cut in and tried his best and was speaking slower than usually but it was visible and audible that his nerves were tight.  
“How many of you are there anyway?”  
This question probably caught Timo off-guard because he blinked once or twice before responding:  
“Well, actually, three in spirit and, um, two in a body.”  
Bernhard heard the lock clicking and the door opened just a little bit to reveal a pale, wrinkled face of an old man. The medium thought that this view would make Feliks furious. It didn’t, although he recognized Roderich in this old man, up to this point he didn’t comprehend the actual lapse of time so he had some expectations but they weren’t fully realized. Feliks’ memory brought Bernhard the image of a young face with quite regular features, sharp chin and half-lidded eyes.  
“Are you aware how ridiculous it all sounds, young man?” asked Roderich, not sure which one of two intruders should he address, ending up looking once at Timo, once at Bernhard.  
The poor ex-student actually opened his mouth to say something but Feliks was faster and definitely didn’t need to deliberate on his words too much.  
_“Are you aware how ridiculous it is that once we drank cherry liqueur in the garden day before your wedding and now your old house is a ruin, you live in the dog-piss-smelling building and I rot under the ground?”_  
Roderich inhaled and exhaled, it was hardly a mere action, rather a particularly specific manifesto.  
“All right, I guess you could come in.”  
  
  
It turned out that by “you” Roderich meant only Bernhard and Feliks. He didn’t want any more people in his flat and Timo did protest. He argued that his friend ‘Berwald’ needed him, that he could help if the things got somehow more dangerous. But Roderich saw him as an unnecessary person and didn’t want Timo to listen to the whole conversation. The ex-almost-mage agreed on staying behind the door on one condition that they would not be locked. When they were closing – Timo had a deeply worried look on his face. It was unexplainable to Bernhard why Roderich didn’t see him as a threat. After all, according to his experience, some people were thrilled only by his face, not to mention the height.  
_Me as a threat,_ corrected Feliks.  
We look the same right now, Bernhard said but his observation was left unnoticed.  
The inside of the flat was at least clean but also very crowded and poorly lit. The carpet was well-worn, almost revealing the wooden floor. The curtains were shut, the sweet smell of old paper lingered in the background. Feliks was offered to sit, he refused cockily, maybe he just wanted to look at Roderich from above. As far as Bernhard was concerned, the man couldn’t really do this when he was alive.  
_“Well, first of all, it won’t take long. I don’t want to look at you. Second of all: what did you do to Erzsi? And thirdly: how could you kill me?!”_ Bernhard heard his voice cracking with the emotions weren’t really his but he did feel them almost like his own.  
“Sit down, please…” Roderich did so himself, his action somehow full of resign.  
_“No. You tell me why did Erzsi die?”_ These words were cold, sharp and harsh, the room felt suddenly as if the winter wind blew through it. The emotions were spiraling, spinning inside of the shared mind. Faster and faster.  
“She couldn’t live.” Roderich’s voice was thoughtful and colorless or at least it felt like it. It felt like ash. “She couldn’t live after she had killed you.”  
The shock mixed with anger and disbelief was like a cold, roaring river so strong that suddenly the lines between Bernhard and Feliks blurred and for the first time the medium didn’t mind. He couldn’t, he wasn’t on his own anymore.  
Their thoughts raced, their heart was beating rapidly and desperately like a caged bird. Their mouth felt dry, they were shaking as in a great fever.  
Roderich, on the other hand, was calm, or at least seemed to be, his elegant hands resting on his nap.  
“She admitted about you two,” he said. “Not that I wasn’t expecting this but up to this point I could at least pretend I didn’t know.”  
_“And she had to die?!”_ they rumbled, remembering Erzsi’s smile, her strong voice, her full laughter and that one day, one evening, when they had to run away through the garden wall to avoid being caught. The memories of feelings would be foreign to Bernhard if he dwelled on them, after all: he had never experienced this kind of push towards any woman in his entire life. For now, however, they both were dead lovers of a dead woman by whom, as her husband claimed, they had been murdered. There was no room for clear thoughts.  
If Roderich looked slightly paler, it was hard to say in this dim light.  
“I will refuse to say anything if this continue.” It stung them right in the heart, deeply and severely. This treacherous cockroach was in none position for forming any conditions.  
“Is everything all right?” Timo’s voice suddenly cut in. It wasn’t malicious by any chance, just concerned. “I’ve heard screaming…?” He had probably opened the door slightly to make himself sound clearer.  
Somehow, this was the thing that brought Bernhard back to his senses. They… Feliks was still furious and the medium understood it fully finally but that was no longer his own anger.  
“Yes, don’t worry”, Bernhard found it surprising that he was the one who could speak at this moment. His throat felt tight. “Body count without any change.”  
“Indeed,” added Roderich, his lips narrowed, his eyes glassy, his gaze not entirely there, not quite present.  
“I will be there if anything…” They heard the door softly closing and stared at each other for a moment. The firework crackled somewhere in the city, it lit the room with the green light.  
_”So… just tell how it all was… according to you,”_ Feliks told through his teeth as if he was spitting the words like a poison. Roderich shifted in his chair, nodded to himself and began speaking .  
  
  
It was the same but also a different story. Some facts Bernhard was aware off because of this short moment of the joined memory they had shared with Feliks before. Therefore the medium knew about Feliks’ upbringing, first with his family-excluded turned-fisherman father, than as an adopted, poor cousin of some noble city house. He also knew how he met his future business partners, he remembered nights they talked, days they planned, years they were setting it all into motion. Bernhard knew of Erzsi, fiery, strong, beautiful and captivating with her hair held top-tight, in her horse-riding trousers. He recalled the good, warm days, the passion, the love towards work and people floating through Feliks’ entire being. The medium also knew of the ending, the black conclusion and how taking the last breaths felt. It was almost familiar.  
But now it was time for the Roderich’s story.  
He spoke shortly, without any digressions, initially his voice was dry and emotionless, in the end it was sharp and cracking, every word falling like a dagger.  
He spoke of the friendship and cooperation, he spoke of the plans, the inventions and the ships, the machines, the engines. But for him it was barely about that – he was there to provide the money, the attention, the support of the important people.  
Roderich also spoke of his marriage – the result of politics and the voice of reason, nothing unusual among the elites of Venc. Bernhard knew it well himself.  
“We were fond of each other. Not too much, as it naturally should be,” he said.  
The discovery of an affair wasn’t the most life-crushing experience, such things were quite common, somehow acceptable and what hurt Roderich mostly was the fact that the person responsible was his close partner. Yet when Erzsi wanted to leave – that would break all the conveniences. It couldn’t be allowed but Erzsi was no person to act against when she had her whole mind set up on the goal.  
“On the night of your death I was the one to die but the glasses were misplaced, something happened and you were the one who ended up on the ground, gasping for air and Erzsi… didn’t take it quite well. It wasn’t me nor the others who killed you. It was her hand that led you to death.” This was an euphemism Feliks found personally offensive and Bernhard agreed with him.  
The story went as following: Erzsi left for the countryside to catch her breath, as she put it herself. The forests around the summer house were deep and dark with plenty animals to hunt, many remote places to hide. At home there was also the pistol, nice and with a walnut handle, it used to belong to Erzi’s mother. There was a day when all these facts became crucial.  
Once she didn’t come back but what was left was a letter with her confession.  
  
_”I don’t believe you,”_ said Feliks, his voice high-pitched, his lips trembling, his heart racing. The white, quivering panic rose in his chest. _”She would never do this, she was a fighter, she-“_  
But Roderich’s eyes were hollow, if there was any light in them – it has burned-out years ago. He reached into the cabinet’s drawer, taking out an envelope from underneath some other documents. The paper was old and yellowish, fragile in touch when Feliks took it in his hand.  
There was a letter inside, faded as if it had been touched many, many times and as if every time it was read – the words were disappearing one by one, transferring from paper into the reader’s memory.  
The letters were well-rounded but with sharp finish, wrote in sweeping motion the eye could easily follow. Feliks recognized it well. He knew the hand that had written it, he kissed openly as a greeting and secretly as a lover. And he knew the person the hand belonged to.  
He didn’t notice he was crying until the tears in his eyes made the words to smudged to read.  
_“So you’ve never found her…?”_ His voice was a barely audible whimper.  
Roderich shook his head in silence, his nostrils trembling, his fists white and clenched.  
The cascade of colorful light bathed the room in green. The distant explosion of the fireworks lingered for a moment in the air.  
Bernhard was there, in the background, not daring to step closer, not entirely there, not entirely disconnected neither.  
_”So it seems,” Feliks began silently, his voice hoarse, his throat tight. “That I am the one who can try to find her.”_  
Roderich’s right hand was covering his mouth but his words could still be understood:  
“How can it be? You really have just came here to talk…?” he said in reluctant disbelieve. There was something desperate in his eyes, just a glimpse of unspoken, half-present longing.  
“I’m not that kind of a person who possesses some kid to kill an old, pathetic prick like you,” Feliks explained, looking down at Roderich. At least methaporically. _“I do keep my promises and besides…”_ he added after peeking at the corridor leading to the front door. _“I don’t want his friend to cut me down with a fork. He creeps me out.”_  
Bernhard didn’t really approve of Feliks’ sense of humor.  
Roderich exhaled loudly.  
“I’m leaving to find her below… below it all. And I guess we’ll all see each other there sooner or later. Initially I wanted to spit into your and the others’ faces but in this turn of events…”  
“Just go,” Roderich whispered.  
Suddenly Bernhard felt as if the pressure which had been present till this moment, just disappeared on a whim, leaving odd emptiness. He collapsed on his knees and if anything could be said about him – there was a lot of him to collapse so the thud that followed was quite significant.  
“Are you all right, lad?” It has been a long time since anybody called Bernhard this way but at that moment he wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind to express any surprise. Roderich was looking at him with dull, tired eyes.  
There was a click and a wave of cold air came through the open door to the flat but no steps could be heard.  
Bernhard nodded, slowly rising, the world was suddenly too warm and vivid, too bright and overwhelming to experience.  
“Could you give me the letter back, please?” the demand was very formal, his demeanor calm but his reaching hand was shaking slightly.  
Bernhard nodded once again, his head so empty, his heart so tranquil it somehow almost hurt.  
“I’m sorry for the… and your wife…” he started, not knowing what to say. Roderich just shook his head, his lips tightly shot.  
“All of it belongs to the past” he was omitting Bernhard’s gaze, carefully stroking the newly retrived envelope. “All he did, all I did, all she did. All. However, I’m glad he has been deprived of this silly assumption that I have killed him.”  
“Bernhard…?” came Timo’s voice, he was probably standing in the open door, waiting patiently yet vigilantly.  
“I would greatly appreciate you leaving now.”  
Bernhard nodded, still not entirely trusting his voice. He just bowed his head and mechanically, feeling as if he was operating a foreign object rather than his own body, he left to the door. Timo was there, standing right in the entrance. He let Bernhard out, his eyes full of concern.  
“How are you?” he asked in small voice. His friend just grasped his arm, shook his head.  
“Out,” he half begged, half commended.  
They hurried down the stairs, Bernhard clenching to Timo’s arm, steps almost dancing under his shaking feet. When they finally got out, the medium vomited on the roadside.  
He felt better afterwards. Almost as if he was pulled from the deep, cold water one more time.  
So together they walked back to the inn, too exhausted to notice the sun slowly rising up the horizon above them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, thank you for reading. See you soon!


	5. The Road Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes are on the road again, heading towards the place where it all has begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello once more, I'd like to say thank you again for all of the support I've been given. I hope you'll enjoy the new chapter. Have fun!

The coachman was smoking a pipe and Bernhard was quite envious of that. The smoke was lazily ascending into the chilly, morning air. The autumn was just ahead, the Lady of the Sea Day being the last summer celebration being held this year.  
Bernhard wondered if he would last till the next festival. After all, his brother had tried to kill him before, even if Timo liked to emphasize how accidental it all was. Yet he wasn’t there so he didn’t understand.  
The medium still felt the coldness settled down deep inside of his bones, the spirit of a dead man was gone for two days now but he had imprinted his presence, making Bernhard feel dirty. But at least, they could stay at the inn for some time and he got his shirt sewed after this whole mess. He was also almost entirely positive that Nat did slip some money in the pocket of Timo’s jacket when they were leaving, however he would have to ask his friend about it to be sure.  
The said friend was whistling while squatting in the dirt of the yard. He was usually very grumpy shortly after getting out of bed but as soon as he got something to eat and drink – his positive attitude was right back. At this moment he was desperately trying to convince a small, visibly reluctant ball of brown fur, which probably was just a specimen of local, short-legged dogs, to come to take some food out of his hand.  
Bernhard watched it, not even slightly bemused that the animal eventually gave up and came for the treat. When Timo finally got up, he had this smug sparkle in his eyes. He brushed of his trousers and walked back to Bernhard, trying to avoid puddles on his way.  
“Who are we waiting for?” Timo asked the coachman when he was passing by. The guy took out the pipe from his mouth.  
“Some mage fella,” he said, his gaze perfectly avoiding Timo’s round face.  
“Well, aren’t they a little bit late?”  
“He’s paid for waiting,” the coachman explained, putting the pipe back between his teeth.  
Timo nodded hesitantly and before his walk continued he had peeked over his arm – the dog from before was observing him from the distance, somehow it managed to have a conspicuous look on its face.  
“Ready for a few hours in the limited, constantly shaking space?” Timo’s voice was cheerful when he turned to Bernhard asking the question.  
The medium performed something which could be interpreted as an extremely poor excuse for an attempt to smile.  
“You’ve forgotten about the horse smell.”  
Timo chuckled but there was some shade of nervousness to it. Maybe the perspective of another mage was making him feel uneasy. Especially as the other one did finish his studies. His fireballs would probably be more destructive. Bernhard, however, hoped that there was no tradition of obligatory fire duels between the magic students. He really didn’t want to end up between two mad arsonists.  
“You still have a chance to back up” Timo said after a moment, his eyes following a figure of a lanky man coming down the road. There was something which shouted “mage” about him. Maybe his long hair, maybe his slightly crooked back or maybe the luggage levitating lazily behind him.  
“There always is.” Bernhard shut his mouth tightly. Timo’s gaze was hanging on him for a while, silent, observant and patient.  
  
  
The carriage was indeed shaky and smelled of horses. Not of any particular horse but of uncertain number of horses. Of the spirit of horse, one could say.  
Together with the unknown mage they left the city, with the shore far behind them, soon the smell of the salt and seaweed disappeared in favor of the scent of trees as they rode into the profound forest of Venc.  
The mage had this rare ability to look politely nervous no matter what the circumstances were. Right now he was just sitting on the bench, peeking through the shutters of the carriage’s window but even doing it he seemed to be slightly embarrassed by his own existence. Bernhard didn’t expect this kind of behavior from a real mage. He thought it was something only the failed-almost-mages presented, hence Timo sometimes. Nevertheless, there was no doubt the man they were facing was a real, licensed wizard – a heavily engraved broche of the Academy on his shoulder was one dead give-away. The way Timo looked at it was another one.  
“It always feels like if we were traveling through the veins right to the heart,” the mage said, his voice quiet yet delighted. Combining the poor lightening with his pleasant smile gave him quite haunted look.  
“Pardon, sir?” Timo was the one to speak, not surprisingly. Bernhard had long been suspecting that his friend’s brain was performing much faster than most people would guess.  
The mage cracked a polite smile which somehow looked as if he was having some devastating stomach problems. Maybe, in fact, that was the case?  
“The roads all leading to the centre of the island deep into the forest are like the veins leading directly to the heart,” the man explained, his voice mild. “Pardon me, that must sound out of nowhere…”  
Bernhard found himself shaking his head.  
“Understandable,” he said, sounding like an old, grumpy god emerging from the slumber.  
The mage looked stunned as if he had heard the stones speaking. It wasn’t exactly the most unusual response to the rare occurrence of Bernhard talking.  
“That’s nice. I mean, I’d prefer not to sound like a madman.” He sent a blink-and-you-miss-it smile. Bernhard caught it, naturally. “Oh, pardon, but I probably do sound like an incredibly rude person, I haven’t even introduced myself yet… I’m Tolys, nice to meet you.” The hand pulled out for a greeting was pale, with long, slender fingers. Bernhard almost heard them cracking when he squeezed them. He murmured “Berwald” in return and sat silently observing Timo’s far more enthusiastic greeting.  
“Lower-Junior Healer Tolys?” the question was extremely particular and Bernhard’s mouth twitched upon hearing it from his friend.  
The mage actually furred his eyebrows slightly, his hand wandered to the broche resting upon his chest.  
“Exactly, Lower-Junior Healer, you are correct,” he confirmed looking slightly lost in thoughts.  
“Well, blue bird is a dead give-away,” Timo’s eyes were smiling, his voice friendly, almost sparkly. HE patted the place on his chest where the broche would have been if he had any. “So, are you heading to serve in Tvert’s hospital?”  
The mage’s eyes shone in a very specific, dangerous way, Bernhard recognized from his family dinners when a cousin or an uncle with The Strong Opinion were provoked to express their point of view. Usually it ended up badly, their short temper being somehow legendary.  
“Actually I am, family matters forced me to leave Tvert for some time but now I’m coming back there. I’m merely an assistant, of course.” The explanation was shorter than Bernhard expected. He needed some clarification.  
“It must be a new idea to bring an Academy healer to Tvert,” he said remembering no such situation when he was still living there. Tvert was quite a remote place and Academy’s possessive hands hadn’t been able to reach there for years. It seemed that now the things were not the way they had been before. Bernhard thought nostalgically about all the invectives some elders of Tvert described the Academy with: “nosy, long-bearded bastards” was the softest of them.  
“It is, indeed, but I’m here on the special request of one of the Tvert’s most prominent families.”  
This information was by far even more confusing. Bernhard frowned, suddenly feeling also Timo’s eyes on him.  
“How’s so?” the medium asked, his voice low. The sudden bump on the road prevented Bernhard from sounding too ominous as he had to hold himself not to hit his head on the carriage’s ceiling. To be fair, it already looked as it was being hit repeatedly by some unfortunate people.  
Bernhard knew that there were two most important families in Tvert. The current head of one of them was a self-absorbed brat, the other one was his brother. But out of those two the first one would be more probable, as Bernhard thought. Thinking about anything but parties was not his style.  
“I believe there was a need for a different approach, you see, the Academy’s methods vary from the local but we hope to learn a lot from each other. Excuse me, sir, are you from here?” The question popped out quite unexpectedly for Bernhard. He heard Timo making a rather unidentified noise.  
“My family is from Tvert,” Bernhard answered dryly. The mage nodded and smiled briefly, there was a skin-deep nervousness in his every move and expression.  
“I wasn’t sure of an accent and I wouldn’t dare to explain the nature of Venc’s customs to a true Vencer.”  
“It would be very unfortunate,” Timo commented, there was a spark in his eye and Bernhard recognized it as a sign that his friend considered himself funny at the moment.  
“Certainly.”  
After this delightful admission the conversation died peacefully without anybody’s intervention. Bernhard thought about the past, the times when he was sitting in their family carriage, peeking through the curtains and constantly trying to kick each other with his brother while avoiding their mother noticing anything. It usually didn’t work and both of them ended up being sent to beds without supper.  
In Bernhard’s memory his brother was almost like two different people. A kid he used to play with or hug on a stormy night and the unbearably awful man he turned into. There was some grey area in-between but the certain turning point couldn’t be established. It was less about something suddenly happening, more about the process of changing with a nasty surprise in the end.  
Deep in his thoughts, the medium didn’t pay too much attention to his friend and it turned out that he must have dived into his own contemplation resulting in some totally different conclusion.  
“Well, we could tell stories to kill some time or something,” he came up with an idea. The mage turned out to be far more enthusiastic than Bernhard would have suspected him to.  
“…That’s a great idea! It reminds me of my that time at the Academy when we had to wait a few hours for the professor to- well, never mind.”  
When the Lower-Junior Healer Tolys was speaking, Bernhard shot Timo a split-second gaze to ensure that they both felt amused by being called “gentlemen” in non-ironical way. They did, indeed.  
“Would you like to begin, sir?” Timo asked, bowing slightly in the mage’s direction.  
“If you insist…” he said, scratching his chin. Bernhard noticed again how long the other one’s fingers were. “And if nobody opposes, of course?” The last question was probably directed towards Bernhard but he just mumbled something and shook his head. He didn’t really want to speak just yet but he hoped to hear something about Tvert. He felt almost physically hungry for the information, he discovered in awe.  
“Alright, so… there was this one time when we had the Hunt Hysteria of some sort, at least that is what we called it later on. Because at the beginning there is rarely any name for anything.” The mage’s voice was softer out of sudden, he seemed also less nervous, maybe only the present was making him anxious. It would make some sense since the past was long gone, well-known and unchangeable, at least as far as Bernhard was aware. “It started with a person who came to us in the early morning with a broken arm and a story about the Rider of the Hunt chasing them through the city.”  
Bernhard raised an eyebrow. It was not the usual way these stories went.  
“They also smelled of alcohol and they came straight from some wedding reception so we just didn’t pay too much attention to the details.”  
“Seems reasonable enough,” Timo commented. “I would not believe anybody who comes back from a wedding party without sobering them up.”  
“What is more, the next two victims were students who swore that they caught some odd illness after meeting the Hunt Rider in the forest,” Tolys continued solemnly, he put one finger to the slight up-curve of his mouth.  
“Well, I would not believe any student before sobering him up.” Timo smiled, his teeth showing. “I’m speaking as an ex-student myself, I would not believe any of us.” He was joking or rather half-joking as he usually did. Bernhard recognized his friend’s method of dealing with internal tension.  
“Really? May I ask, what did you study?” The mage seemed moved, he could probably suspect something.  
Bernhard observed Timo’s hand clenching on his lap but his eyes were bright, almost amused. The smile didn’t leave his mouth.  
“At the Academy as well,” he said.  
“Transfiguration?”  
“Spiritual studies, eventually. Do I look like a transfiguration student?” There was nothing hostile in this question, just the interest showing. Bernhard who up to this point wasn’t sure what to expect, was almost certain that the whole conversation wasn’t going to end up with any fire shooting.  
“Thinking about it, rather not. I would say that maybe the elemental destruction.”  
“What do they say about the elemental destruction students?” asked Bernhard out of sudden.  
“That they can’t put their pants on without setting them on fire,” Timo said quickly, sparing the mage the trouble with answering the question.  
“Sounds like you.” Bernhard kept a straight face.  
The mage wasn’t familiar with this type of behavior and his concerned eyes were a clear indication that he wasn’t sure if the other two people are joking or fighting.  
“I do know some elemental destruction mages and this stereotype is not true,” he explained. He cleared his throat. “So… do you wish to know the rest of the story?”  
Timo nodded, his enthusiasm pure and almost radiating. Bernhard wanted to say that the whole island of Venc was in a constant state of the Hunt Hysteria and the town of Tvert was its epicenter. But he didn’t.  
“After that the local paper smelled the fresh blood,” Tolys said sounding somehow dark. His voice clang slightly like a coin falling on the table. “Following that there was also this one gentleman who wrote a lengthy pamphlet on the whole matter, blaming his neighbor for all of the problems. He claimed that they had awoken the wrath of the Lord of the Forest and we all would pay for it.”  
This was the point when Bernhard had to hold himself back to prevent making any disgust noises. He did know, after all, the true wrath of the Lord of the Forest. Maybe if he was asked at this particular moment, he would tell about it. He would speak of the burning eyes in the color of the setting sun, of the voice like freezing thunder, of the sky up there pale and dead, cold and distant.  
But he was used to silence and in silence he remained.  
“After that the said neighbor wrote a response pamphlet on the matter, accusing the first author of blasphemy. But the real problem was that people started seeing the Riders everywhere. We had at least one people daily saying that they suffered because they saw the Rider or they were cursed by them or touched or… anything. One woman came to my friend six months pregnant claiming that her baby was also the Rider’s. There was even one particular gentleman accusing the Lord Christiansen’s… friend of being the Rider himself. It was a mess. Hopefully it ended out of sudden the same way as it had begun. Some say the Hunt is upon us still.”  
“What’s your opinion then?” Timo asked quickly, not letting the silence fall.  
The mage was very careful when he spoke:  
“I think… that the people of Tvert are quite fascinating.”  
“It happens once in a while,” said Berhard suddenly. “The hysteria. We like it.”  
Tolys looked at him, his face obscured by the shadow resting in the carriage.  
“Maybe I’ll understand it one day.”  
  
  
“Are you alright?” asked Timo casually, when they were having a tiny break on the side of the road.  
The forest was silent and smelled of the conifer needles and rain. Not for the first time in his life Bernhard thought that the trees were somehow similar to the pillars of the cathedral – tall and bearing the far vault. But unlike in the cathedral’s ceiling – the sky was the source of light, not of the shadow. The feeling of coming home was bringing him eerie, strange thoughts.  
“Why are you asking?” Bernhard felt slightly attacked by the question. His hart begun swelling with anxiety he couldn’t shake off.  
“Well, I’ve noticed you don’t like this all ‘god of the hunt talk’…” Timo spoke quietly to prevent any other ears from hearing him.  
“Nothing is wrong.” Bernhard heard his own, gruff voice and didn’t believe a word it said and pretended that he didn’t see the flicker of hurt on Timo’s face.  
  
  
“Well, maybe I should tell a story about this one time when we went fishing together, what do you think, Ber?”  
“Maybe not.”  
“Alright, so, well, maybe something different. I know a nice story. And it is about the Lady of the Sea so my timing is rather accurate. So… Well, I could start instead of talking about starting. So, once again, there was a woman who fell in love with the Goddess of the Sea. She, I mean, the mortal, was a widow who was living on the shore. Her dead husband used to be a fisherman and she had to work really hard with her sons to survive. After long nights of fixing the nets her hands were all cut, her face was bruised from worry and sadness… Well, you get the picture, so, one day she saw the Goddess of the Sea in the storm. Her hair was of the sea foam, her breast bare, her eyes dark like the deep water… you also get the picture. So, the woman saw the Lady only briefly but she couldn’t stop thinking about her. Every time she gazed at the sea she wished she could look at her again. And I guess it wasn’t all the time because she seems to be a busy woman, I think. So, it lasted some time, a year, two years, five years. Seven years passed when she met the Goddess again. She said: my lady, I’ve been dreaming about your eyes for seven years. And the Lady responded: I hoped for it, I’ve been yearning for you for fourteen.”  
“That’s all?”  
“I think so?”  
“You must have forgotten about something.”  
“Well, I could have, now when I think about it…”  
“Why would a Goddess fall in love with a fisherman’s widow?”  
“…Why would she not?”  
“Doesn’t make sense.”  
“So tell a story which makes sense…!”  
“Hm.”  
  
  
Bernhard wasn’t a born storyteller. In fact, he was as far from that as it was even humanly possible. He didn’t like talking so he was glad that Timo didn’t mind doing it and even seemed to be very happy about it. This time, however, he didn’t really like the story for the reasons he wasn’t able to grasp just yet. His mind wandered to the past. When he closed his eyes and didn’t listen to the conversation Timo and Tolys were holding, he could almost smell the rosy perfumes his mother used. How many times did they travel together? He couldn’t count. He remembered the carriage shaking and the boredom being killed by some on-road games of riddles. His mother knew all of the riddles in the world, at least that was what he thought when he was younger. His brother didn’t always have enough patient for guessing but he did happen to have some strikes of genius thinking.  
Bernhard thought again about the Lady of the Sea. The people of the Continent and the shores of Venc loved her generous embrace. She could be cruel but also generous. She gave away with both her hands, sometimes took with both. They were leaving her regime, diving into the kingdom of the Lord of the Forest, the God of Hunt who has never given anything freely but who enjoyed the mortals struggling for their goals.  
And who was hypocritical as hell as far as Bernhard was concerned about it.  
He felt Timo’s eyes on him. Maybe he wanted him to move because Bernhard realized suddenly how close they were sitting. So, he took the hint and pulled away slightly.  
He felt cold and stiff as if the ghost was still sleeping within his bones. He didn’t want to dwell on it anymore. He didn’t need any more memories, his own were enough. So he cleared his throat.  
The conversation between the other two stopped out of sudden, the mage looked at Bernhard with the polite, questioning gaze.  
“I have a story,” Bernhard declared, trying not to notice Timo smirking.  
“Go on, we still have a lot of time, sir.”  
Bernhard knew it, it was almost as if his soul was slowly giving up to the beating of a giant, steady heart of the island. It was welcoming him back, reaching out to him, grasping with long fingers, awakening his core. He was coming back to his roots and they knew about it well.  
“Once my brother and I went fishing,” he started after a second of consideration. He was careful with words, not to say anything he would regret saying later. He waited just enough for his voice to linger in the air. “In the middle of the night.”  
This was the moment when the glimpse in the listeners’ eyes told him he got their attention. The mage, however, was probably either very polite or bored.  
“Why?” Tolys asked, his mouth slightly curved as if he was restraining himself from smiling.  
“We were stupid.” Bernhard enjoyed the simple truth of this statement. “And around eleven.”  
Tolys nodded.  
“Well, everyone was eleven at some point,” Timo said, his laughter dry and short. “Sorry, continue.”  
Bernhard was suddenly aware of his own breath, it distracted him for a moment, out of sudden telling this silly story didn’t seem like a good idea anymore.  
“The truth was: our father forbid us from fishing. Not a good way to waste your day like this, he said. Something along the line. So we went at night.” He didn’t remember who came up with this solution to the problem but it must have felt like a great, striking idea back then. “We went, didn’t get caught, got pretty sick instead. I was up again soon but it wasn’t so easy for my brother. I thought I killed him. He was all sweating, coughing, lying in the fewer for whole days. Went to my mother, told her what happened. All of it. My brother got better eventually and punched me for telling her.” Bernhard didn’t feel the necessity of adding that his brother was bitten by him that day.  
“Did anyone tell your father?” Tolys asked, quite concerned as for a story told by some stranger in the wagon.  
“Eventually.” Bernhard didn’t want to dwell on it, he scratched his chin, he could use some shaving.  
“And that’s the whole story?” Timo asked, probably mimicking Bernhard’s previous behavior regarding the crazy myth he had told.  
“Indeed.”  
“…well, it does have more consistency than mine.”  
Bernhard smirked with triumph.  
“But you could have added some dragons, they make every story better.”  
“Or the hunt,” observed Tolys, probably finally feeling bold enough to joke a little bit. Bernhard had to restrain himself from sending the mage a particularly freezing look.  
“…Maybe later,” he said instead, clenching his fist unconsciously.  
  
  
They emerged from the forest and the sharp ray of sun shot through the crack in the shutters. Bernhard pushed them slightly to gaze upon the place he was born for the first time in years. The great lake looked almost like aflame in the light of the sunset coloring the clouds warmly. The river was a snake of silver, lying lazily in the ground. But the darkness was already crawling from within the hills accompanied by the long shadows of the buildings and trees.  
There, Bernhard thought, this black line is the road home.  
Immediately he looked away. The dust of the road and the sun must have been too much for him because he felt his eyes water a little.  
“Beautiful,” Timo said, his voice small but somehow clear.  
“Yes. I can’t wait for a bath. It’s so nice to see it all in place.” Tolys stretched his back. “Could you close it, please? The dust…”  
Bernhard did so without hesitation and without looking anybody in the eyes as well. For a moment he was warm again.  
  
The night had already fallen when they reached the city of Tvert. They said goodbyes to the mage, they wished each other luck, they went separate ways. Later that evening Timo finally expressed the little thought he had for the whole time.  
“Well, so with your brother, it seems like there was some happy time…?”  
The night had brought the cold, it slipped into Bernhard’s bones again, he felt it almost like a ghost within.  
“There is not anymore.”  
The pause lasted as much as it should and after that Timo said, his voice almost enthusiastic:  
“Alright, so we need to analyze the possibilities.”  
Bernhard agreed, it was high time and he had some ideas what to do with his brother but firstly they needed to look around a little.  


**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun with writing this and I hope you also liked it, thank you for reading!


End file.
